


Small Favours

by Jelly



Category: Dragons: Race to the Edge, DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Aid, Fluff, Various minor injuries, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10321964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jelly/pseuds/Jelly
Summary: Pains, Strains, and Concussed Brains - a Dragon Rider’s Guide to Basic First Aid.(Or: Hiccup’s lessons in basic first aid courtesy of one Astrid Hofferson)





	

_Epistaxis_

 As amazing as it is that he and his friends are out on the Edge looking for new dragons, Hiccup figures out (far too late in the game) that being so far from home has its downsides. There are the things he _had_ seen coming – food, laundry, having to build up their own huts from scratch – but it’s not like they’ve never had to take care of those things before. Plus, with dragons that can help fish, warm water, and lift things too heavy for them, it’s not _really_ that big a deal. There are other things, though, that he probably should have thought about, like, well... nose bleeds.

  _Really bad_ nose bleeds.               

 That Hiccup himself may have inflicted.

 To be fair, Snotlout had asked for this. The words, “Come on, hit me,” and “You know you want to,” had actually come out of his mouth, and _gods_ , Hiccup really did want to for all the trouble he’d caused him this morning.

 “I’m so proud of you,” says Astrid with a pleased grin. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

 Hiccup frowns at her. “On any other day, I’d take that as a compliment,” he mutters, helping Snotlout onto one of the clubhouse benches, “but I think I might have broken his nose.”

 Astrid lets out an undignified snort. “No, don’t let him lie down, you’ll make it worse,” she laughs. “He’ll be fine. I’ve punched him harder than that before.”

 “He’s bleeding a _lot_.”

 She giggles. “It’ll stop eventually.”

 Hiccup fixes her with a look that’s part _I-think-I-really-messed-up-this-time_ and part _how-is-any-part-of-this-funny?_ Perhaps if he _wasn’t_ the one who actually did the damage, he might find it funny too, but right now, he’s a bit terrified that he might have done something permanent.

 Astrid rolls her eyes. “Wipe his chin off,” she says. “And tilt his head forward, it’ll stop the blood from pooling in the back of his throat. The last thing we need is for him to swallow it and throw it all up.”

 “How do you know all of this?”

 She shrugs. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there.”

 Hiccup pauses. “Gothi got sick of you bringing him up to her hut, didn’t she?”

 Astrid has the decency to flush at that. “He can be really seedy sometimes, okay?”

 “No, no, I don’t blame you! If anything it makes me feel better.” Hiccup turns his head slightly to look at her, feeling a clever grin tugging at his lips as an idea forms itself in his mind.  “What else do you know?”

 Astrid narrows her eyes at him, and the proud and delighted smile fades from her features almost as soon as he asks. “Oh, no,” she groans. How she knows what’s on his mind already is beyond him – maybe they’ve just spent too much time together. “ _No_. You’re not volunteering me to be the first-aid warden here, Hiccup,” she says sternly. “I’m not doing it. We have this idiot _and_ the twins on this island, I’ll never get any time to fly Stormfly or do literally anything else. Get Fishlegs to do it.”

 “Fish almost threw up when we passed him before.”

 “I’m _not_ doing it.” Astrid stomps her foot childishly. Hiccup thinks that if she weren’t glaring daggers at him, it might be cute.

 He huffs at her. “Well, from the sound of it, there’s no one else on the island who knows the practical stuff like you do. Fishlegs can only get us so far with his knowledge of herbs, but if he throws up at the sight of a bloody nose, what help is he going to be?”

 “ _No._ ”

 Hiccup makes a face. He takes rag from Snotlout’s nose briefly, lets out a sigh of relief when he finds the bleeding has _finally_ stopped, and sits back on his heels. “Now what?”

 Astrid scowls at him. “You’re doing this on purpose,” she snaps, because yes, yes he is. Mostly. Also, he has no idea what he’s doing, and if anything, it’s proof that she’s the only one even a little qualified in first-aid who doesn’t faint at the sight of blood.

 “I’m not doing _anything_ on purpose,” Hiccup lies. “I’m…” He grins at her. “I’m asking you to teach me. I mean, okay, it’s a little unfair to put any one person in charge of first aid, _but_ – hear me out – _but_ if there’re two of us who can fix up minor injuries _plus_ Fishlegs and his herbs, then no one has to be official first-aid warden and we can all sort of… share the load.”

 Astrid gives him a _look_. Hiccup’s honestly a little insulted that she would doubt that he wants anything more than to learn, but she knows that he’s right, and the only real way out of this is to make sure he knows what he’s doing. And, well… any excuse to spend time with together is a good one, even if they’re already in each other’s heads – but he’s not about to admit to that just yet.

 She rubs her temples and lets out a resigned sigh. “Whatever,” she grumbles at last, dropping into the space beside him. She wrinkles her nose at the pile of rags in the bowl beside Snotlout and presses her fingers to his nose.

 Snotlout whimpers. “Why you gotta be so rough?” he whines.

 Astrid just rolls her eyes. “You didn’t break it,” she says. “Here.” She takes his hand (Hiccup tries not grin) and replaces hers with it. “See how there’s no movement? No, higher – there you go. Plus, you’d hear it. It makes a weird sort of grating sound. But he’ll be fine.” She pats Snotlout’s cheek for good measure, and he groans and tries to bat her away. “Give him something cold to keep on his face to ease the pain.” She glances at him, and too late, Hiccup realizes, he’s been smiling at her like an idiot in love (he is, but that’s not the point).

 “You make a good doctor,” he says stupidly.

 She blushes a little. “You make a good student,” she says. “And you’d better be. I’m _not_ doing all this on my own.”

 Snotlout groans loudly. “You guys are gross.”

 

 

_Conjunctivitis_

 Hiccup has seen a lot of really horrific things – he is a Viking, after all, he’s seen a ton of burns and healing stumps and Gobber’s dirty laundry – but probably one of the most terrifying things he’s seen to date is Ruffnut with an infected eye. The twins are two of his best friends, yeah, but also, they have a tendency to make atrocious decisions with equally atrocious consequences, and maybe it would have been less atrocious if they’d mentioned to _literally_ _anyone_ that ‘Ruff got hit in the eye with a tree branch the other day’ but now…

 Hiccup’s pretty sure he’s never heard Fishlegs sound so horrified.

 “ _What the Thor did you do to your eye?_ ”

 They’re in the clubhouse for breakfast. Ruff’s left eye is red, and swollen, and crusty with dried yellow pus, but she shrugs like it’s nothing and takes her usual seat between Snotlout and her brother. “I dunno. What’s wrong with my eye?”

 “Um. So much?” offers Hiccup. “Did you – uh – it’s looking pretty infected there, Ruff.” His stomach grumbles, but he’s pretty sure he couldn’t eat the rest of his breakfast even if he wanted to – not after seeing the mess that is Ruffnut’s left eye. He glances at Astrid, who glances back with a look that says _NOPE,_ _NOPE, NOPE_ and jerks her head at Fishlegs instead.

 “Infected?” Ruff waves them off. “Nah, it’s that sleep dust stuff you get when you wake up. We Thorstons get a _ton_ of it, don’t we, bro?”

 Tuff shuffles away from her. “Not like _that_.”

 Ruff frowns as much as her eye will let her frown. “What? What is it?”

 “Have you – uh – have you looked in a mirror today, Ruff?”

 “No, why?”

 Snotlout gags a little, and he shoves the rest of his breakfast into the fire. Then he holds up his plate so Ruff can have a look at her eye in tarnished metal.

 Hiccup’s pretty sure they can hear her screaming from Berk.

 

 

 They take her to Fishlegs’ hut because his is the closest, and he can start working on some herbs and ointment for her, but meanwhile, Hiccup sits her down in Fish’s little garden while Astrid lugs over a pail of water.

 “That’s messed up,” she manages, but she points to the pail and nudges it closer with her foot. “You’ve gotta flush her eye out.”

 Hiccup grimaces. “Why do _I_ have to be the one to do it?”

 “You wanted to learn how to do basic first-aid, didn’t you?” says Astrid pointedly. “Is any of that pus still fluid?”

 “Oh, gods, I have to _look_?”

 “ _Hiccup._ ”

 He sighs and motions for Ruff to lean against the nearest boulder. “Uh – Ruff, you gotta open your eye – ew –” He pauses. “No, it looks like it’s all dry.”

 Astrid sighs too, but she sounds relieved, at the very least. “Well, it’s healing,” she says, nudging the bucket closer still. “But you still have to flush it out. Needs to be clean before you can put any of Fish’s ointment stuff on it.  There’s a little cup in there, you just have to pour the water into her eye.”

 “Into my _eye_?”

 “Don’t be such a baby,” snaps Astrid. “Hold your eye open – wider – good. Hiccup, you can go ahead. No, more than that – I said _flush_ , not trickle.”

 It’s a pretty harrowing experience, if Hiccup does say so himself. Ruff squirms and complains and hisses a string of curses so vile that he has to actively tune her out to avoid getting the imagery. But, at last, Fishlegs reappears from his hut with a tiny bottle of clear fluid, and Astrid peers over Hiccup’s shoulder at Ruff’s still swollen, still red, but much less crusty eye, and nods.

 “Don’t move,” says Fish, putting a couple of drops of fluid into her eye. “We’ll put in a couple more drops tonight and, hopefully, the swelling will have gone tomorrow. _Don’t_ rub it, or it’ll get worse, and we are _not_ going to take care of it if it does – mostly because if it does get worse, you’ll have to go straight back to Berk to get some real treatment from Gothi.” He shudders.

 Ruff scowls at him – at all three of them, actually – and grumbles something that sounds like “I should have taken my chances,” under her breath. Hiccup hopes she’s joking because he has a feeling that, if it _had_ gotten any worse, she might have lost her eye completely, and _that,_ he’s sure, is something they could _not_ have taken care of. She skulks away, and Hiccup sags under the weight of an exhaustion he hadn’t realized had started to build.

 “Well, I’m never doing that again,” he deadpans.

 Astrid scoffs. “And you wondered why I didn’t want anything to do with the idea of a first-aid warden.”

 Fishlegs raises a curious eyebrow at them.  “Having a first-aid warden _would_ be handy, though,” he quips. “I can’t believe we didn’t consider that when we came out here.”

 “We didn’t _need_ to consider it,” says Hiccup. “Well… we didn’t until I – uh –” He coughs, shuffling guiltily at the memory of Snotlout’s bloodied nose. “We said we would share the load. I mean. Astrid’s right in saying designating any one of us to look after _all_ the minor injuries here would be… more than a little unfair. So she’s teaching me what she picked up from Gothi, and we thought maybe you could be our apothecary considering your knowledge of herbs. I mean you handled this situation great – and I was thinking – maybe – it might be a good idea for you to go back to Berk sometime and get some supplies for our stock over here.”

 Hiccup’s not sure what he expected – perhaps he just thought that Fishlegs might be a little less than eager just because Astrid was so against being volunteered – but Fish claps his hands together delightedly, an excited grin spreading across his face like it’s a dream come true.

 “Of course!” he says. “That’s a great idea! I mean, we can’t always fly back to Berk in case of emergencies. Oooh, I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn some of Gothi’s remedies. I can go later, if you like! I should pack a bag – Meatlug’s gonna be so excited…”

 He babbles to himself as he hurries back into his hut, and Hiccup can’t help but chuckle despite himself. “Well,” he says, turning to Astrid. “Should we head back?”

 “Probably,” she answers. “You did good today. I’m impressed.”

 He snorts and nudges her playfully. “Why, thank you, milady, but I think all the credit should be given to my teacher. She’s the real hero.” He winks, enjoying the flattered grin tugging at her lips. He offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

 Astrid hesitates. “Maybe we should go wash up first.”

 Wash up? For a second, Hiccup’s confused, and then he remembers that he’s been in direct contact with Ruff’s infected eye, and he yelps and takes his arm back. “Oh, gods, I can’t believe I almost forgot… ew…”

 Astrid chuckles. “I’ll meet you back at the clubhouse,” she grins, touching his elbow briefly, and she bids him goodbye and suddenly he’s alone, looking after her with an embarrassed smile.

 “You guys are cute.”

 Hiccup yelps. “Fishlegs! Y-you’re back! How-how long have you been standing there?”

 Fish smirks. “Long enough.”

 

 

 

_Food Poisoning_

Hiccup has a relatively strong stomach, and he thinks that, after dealing with Ruffnut and the horror that was her eye infection, it may as well be made of Gronkle Iron. He’s honestly pretty pleased with how he handled that situation, and while he would never wish anyone any actual harm, he feels like he’s ready to handle the next thing on his own.

 He is wrong.

 It’s the early afternoon. No one except Ruff has seen Tuffnut at all today, and when they ask, all Ruff says is, “He said he wasn’t feeling well so he’s taking the day off.”

 With two successful applications of first-aid so far, Hiccup is weirdly confident about this. “Maybe I should go check on him,” he suggests, catching Astrid’s eye.

 Astrid gives him a look. “What do you mean ‘ _I_ ’?”

 “Well…” Hiccup shrugs. “I mean, he’s probably _fine,_ but if he really is feeling sick, maybe I can help.”

 He knows in his head that he and Astrid are at this odd point where they can sometimes read each other’s minds, but it surprises him every time she does it. She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You’ve handled two incidents,” she deadpans. “And the only reason you did is because you had instruction.”

 “Yeah, and?”

 “ _And_?” Astrid lets out a derisive snort. “ _Two_ incidents doesn’t suddenly make you an expert at applying first-aid, and if you go up there by yourself and decide you _do_ need help, I’m not coming up after you.”

 Hiccup scowls a little. “You wouldn’t go up there _now_ ,” he says pointedly. “Look, Astrid, I know you’re sick of this – especially because you didn’t want anything to do with it when I first suggested it – but what if Tuff actually needs help? Besides, we won’t know I can do it myself if I don’t try, right?”

 She makes a face at him and shuffles uneasily from foot to foot. Hiccup thinks she looks a little torn. On the one hand, he’s right – she’ll never get any peace and quiet if he doesn’t learn to take care of minor injuries on his own. On the other, if he screws it up or does it wrong, the consequences could be even worse. It’s a tough decision to make, but in the end, she sighs. “Fine,” she says at last. “Okay. You do it. But come and get me as soon you’re out of your depth.”

 

 

The twins may not be Toothless’ favourite people, but Hiccup’s never seen him like this. He seems to get more and more agitated the closer they get, and Hiccup scratches the back of his ears nervously as they land on the decking. He wrinkles his nose.

 Something smells a little off, and he figures that’s probably what’s probably bothering Toothless. He holds his breath and knocks. “Tuff?”

 There’s a weird retching sound. Hiccup can feel the regret building up in his stomach already. “I might need you to get Astrid, bud,” he manages, patting Toothless’ nose. He pushes the door open.

 Tuff groans as the light hits him. He’s curled up on his cot with a bucket clutched to his stomach, and the smell, Hiccup realizes, is coming from the chunky puddles of vomit on the floor, and on the bed, and – well – everywhere.

 Hiccup gags and stumbles back outside. “I’m gonna need you to _actually_ get Astrid, bud.”

 

 

Astrid, to her credit, doesn’t look even a little phased by the mess.

 If anything, she just looks tired, and Hiccup can’t help but feel guilty about it. Perhaps if he’d just asked her to come with him the first time, it would have been less bad because at least then, she wouldn’t have tried to invest her time in something else before being interrupted almost immediately.

 She prods Tuff’s stomach. “What did you eat last?”

 “I – _ugh_ – I dunno,” mumbles Tuffnut.

 “ _When_ did you last eat?”

 “Uh… last night?” Tuff groans and gags into his bucket. “I went back to the clubhouse at around midnight last night and had some of the left over fish. I saved some and hid it under my seat.”

 Astrid rolls her eyes. “Gross,” she grumbles. “You’ll be fine. It’s just a little food poisoning.” She rounds on Hiccup. “Fishlegs might have something to soothe the nausea, but there’s not a lot to do here. Just make sure he has plenty to drink, and the stomach cramps and vomiting should go away on their own.”

 Hiccup sighs and stares at the floorboards. “Sorry. I should have listened. Go ahead, say it.”

 Despite herself, Astrid chuckles and nudges him with her shoulder. “You meant well. But I told you so.”

 “I just –” Hiccup gestures vaguely at himself, and then at Tuff and his bucket. “Like. I feel bad. You’re the only who knows what you’re doing, and I want to help and be able to do this on my own so I can leave you alone, you know?”

 “I know,” she says. “Like I said, I know you meant well. Maybe I should give you some pointers ahead of time instead of waiting for the next thing. I think Fish brought back some books we can look over.”

 “Yeah?” Hiccup brightens considerably. “That sounds great. I’d love to get some private lessons.”

 “I’d bet you would,” teases Astrid.

 Tuff retches again. “Oh my gods, flirt somewhere else,” he manages hoarsely. “I’m sick enough without having to listen to this.”

 Hiccup sputters for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Astrid flush. “We’re not _flirting_ ,” he says stupidly. “And don’t be rude, we’re going out of our way to make sure you don’t _die._ ”

 “I heard what you did to Ruff’s eye, I would honestly rather take my chances.”

 “That can be arranged,” snaps Astrid. “Gods, why do we even bother? We still have to clean up the mess on your floor, so a little gratitude would be nice.”

 Hiccup holds up a hand. “No. I’ll do it. You go – it’s the least I can do for dragging you up here.”

 “What? I can’t leave you to do this on your own –”

 “Astrid. Just go. I can handle it. I’ll let you know how things go later, okay?” Hiccup nudges her towards the door with his hip, careful not to touch her skin until after he’s had time to wash up. “Go.” He offers her one last smile.

 Tuff retches once more.

 Hiccup’s pretty sure it’s not because he’s sick again.

 

_Mild Concussion_

It’s a complete accident (Hiccup thinks – or rather, hopes), but somehow, Snotlout manages to launch a boulder right into Fishlegs’ hut while he’s testing the catapults. The damage to the hut is easy enough to fix. The damage to Fishlegs is…

 Well.

 It’s hard to say. Hiccup’s only ever read about how to deal with a concussion, and Astrid is helping by not helping at all. “You can take this one,” she’d said, and now she’s sitting with her legs crossed in one of the undamaged rooms in Fishlegs’ hut with an air of mild interest. She doesn’t look too worried, so Hiccup takes that as a sign that Fish is _probably_ fine, but he prods and pokes anyway, just to be sure.

 “Fish, do you know what day it is today?”

 Fishlegs frowns like he has to think about it much too hard. “…Thorsday?”

 It’s not Thorsday. Confusion: check.

 “Do you know what happened?”

 “Uh.” Fish frowns even harder. “No?”

 Amnesia: Check.

 “Do you have a headache?” Hiccup backtracks. “No. Wait. Stupid question, my bad. Do you – uh –” He pauses, trying to remember the exact page on head injuries in Gothi’s book. “Do you feel nauseous at all?”

 Fishlegs pauses for a moment. Then he gags.

 Nausea: Check.

 “Is it a mild concussion?” he asks, swivelling around to look at Astrid.

 Astrid just shrugs and says, “You tell me. You’re in charge here.”

 Hiccup huffs, running through his mental list of differential diagnoses. He glances at Astrid briefly, trying to gauge the amount she’s worried (and either she’s not worried at all or she’s very good at pretending she’s not for the sake of Hiccup’s first solo run) and decides that there’s nothing else it can be. “Okay, uh.” He pauses. “I mean, all your reflexes are fine and you can walk around no problem. I guess… we just give you some ice for the pain?”

 “What’ve you missed?” asks Astrid from her corner.

 Hiccup pauses again. “Oh, duh, of course. Uh – Fish, are you sleepy?”

 “Um.” Fishlegs sways a little on the spot looking unsure. “Yes?”

 “Okay, don’t do that.” Hiccup steadies him gently. “ _Don’t_ sleep. At least for a couple of hours, and then, I dunno, I guess we’ll take turns keeping watch and waking you every now and then over night? Oh, and ice, obviously, for the pain.” He glances at Astrid again, and she nods, proud little smile tugging at her lips. Hiccup grins. “All right, well – I’ll take first watch?”

 “I can stay for a bit,” Astrid offers. “Well. I can get some ice, and _then_ I can stay for a bit. Try to clean up a little… ”

 She’s looking for an excuse to stay, Hiccup can tell from the get-go. He chuckles. “You know I wouldn’t object if that’s what you wanted.”

 Astrid chuckles. “That is what I want.”

 “Oh, you _guys_.” Fishlegs, obviously still dazed and a little confused, clasps his hands together and sighs. “Go on. Kiss.”

 On any other day, Hiccup imagines that the blush that blooms on Astrid’s face might have been cute, except he’s blushing too and being caught out (sort of) by Fishlegs (with a concussion, no less) is a little embarrassing. Astrid just coughs and tries to hide it under a grimace. “Y’know, on second thought, I’m gonna go.” She picks herself up off of Fish’s floor and dusts off her skirt. “Just – uh – let me know when it’s my turn to look after –”

“Uh – yep.” He hesitates for a moment – but then, what the heck, Fishlegs probably won’t remember much of this in the morning. He hurries after her and slips his hand into hers. “I’ll see you later,” he mutters, squeezing her fingers briefly.

 “Yeah,” she says with a smile. “See you.”

 

_Stitches_

On one of Heather’s visits, she’s bleeding.

 It’s nothing too serious – just a little gash on her arm that she’s patched up with a spare bit of cloth – stray Dragon Hunter arrow, she’d said, to which Hiccup, Astrid, and Fishlegs had replied with varying amounts of disapproval.

 “Well, we’re glad you stopped by,” says Hiccup. And he means it – she doesn’t visit enough and they enjoy her company. “You can get some food, some rest – and we can get a look at your arm and decide on whether or not it needs stitching up.”

 Heather snorts. “How long have you been a doctor exactly?” she jokes.

 “Not a doctor, per se – more like Astrid and I are sharing first-aid duties. Fish is our apothecary.” He grins proudly at them. “I’ve only just been cleared to do stuff unsupervised.”

 “Is that right?”

 Astrid chuckles and bumps him forward with her hip. “He’ll take care of that for you, Heather. I mean, he’s still a little new at it, but I think he’ll manage.”

 Heather hesitates. “Have… you ever stitched anyone up before…?”

 Hiccup puts a hand over his chest like he’s insulted (honestly, he kind of is) – but to be fair, no, he hasn’t. He’s read all about it, though. He knows to check that there’s nothing still left in the wound, and that he should disinfect it first; he knows to sterilize the needle first, and what kind of stitch works best on different wounds; and he knows how to bandage it tightly afterwards to help with the bruising. He would have liked to have had some practise first, but it’s not like anyone would willingly cut themselves open just so he could have a go.

 “He’ll be fine,” says Astrid before he can even open his mouth. “If he screws it up, he’ll have a very disappointed teacher who’ll be extra annoyed because she has to do it again.”

 “I won’t screw it up, though.” Hiccup can’t help but grin eagerly at Astrid’s encouragement. “Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can _all_ catch up.”

 

 

Admittedly, Hiccup _is_ a little nervous, but he gets over it by pretending Astrid is sitting in the corner watching to make sure he doesn’t skip any steps. By the time Heather has unwrapped her arm and pulled up the sleeve, the needles have been sterilized and Hiccup has the alcohol at the ready.

 “This’ll sting a lot,” he warns her, soaking a bit of fabric with alcohol. “I’ll try to be quick.”

 “I have to say, I’m impressed.” Heather bites down on her lip as Hiccup dabs at the cut to clean it. “I didn’t realize you knew how to do all of this.”

 “I didn’t,” says Hiccup honestly. “Apparently Astrid picked up a _lot_ of stuff from Gothi from the number of times she’s had to drag Snotlout up there for injuries. We actually hadn’t even considered it until I – uh – punched Snot in the nose.”

 Heather lets out an amused laugh. “What? I didn’t know you had it in you!”

 “Astrid said that too,” chuckles Hiccup. “Needle going in now.”

 “What, so –” She grunts a little as he pulls the thread through her skin. “Astrid taught you how to do all this?”

 “More or less. She’s a pretty good teacher.”

 “Been trying to find excuses to spend time with her, have you?”

 “I – _what_ –” Hiccup sputters for a moment, and he pauses in his work to find that Heather is wearing this gods-awful smirk that knows far too much but asks for every detail at the same time. “I have _not_ – they’re not _excuses_ – I –”

“I suppose they’re not really,” says Heather thoughtfully. “Knowing first-aid is pretty essential all the way out here. But that doesn’t really change the way you guys act around each other.”

 “I – I— ” Hiccup snaps his mouth shut and frowns at her as he ties off the last stitch. “How would _you_ know? You’re not even around ninety percent of the time.”

 “Yeah, but I have _eyes_.” Heather laughs and offers him delighted grin, but it honestly just makes Hiccup more uncomfortable. Heather knows. There’s no denying this to her. And if Heather knows and she’s not even on the Edge for very long, Hiccup’s pretty sure that everyone else already does too.

 Hiccup sighs and reaches for the bandages. “ _Fine_. Yeah. Okay, you got me.”

 “What, you’re not even going to deny it?”

 “What’s there to deny? You already know what’s going on.”

 “ _Wow_.” Heather snorts loudly. “You’re so much easier to talk to about this than Astrid.” She pauses. Hiccup can almost feel the way she scrutinizes the top of his head. “What I don’t understand is why neither of you will do anything about it. I mean, you obviously know how you feel about each other. What are you waiting for?”

 Hiccup shrugs and fastens the bandage. “There have been times where I’ve thought about it,” he admits, refusing to look her in the eye. “Times where I thought I should have just kissed her, you know? I regret it every time I don’t, but…” He pauses and glances at the ceiling like he’s looking for words. “I guess I just want it to be perfect.”

 “ _Aw._ ” Heather sighs a dreamy sigh. “You guys are so in love, it’s so cute.”

 “Can you – can you _not_ tell anyone we talked about this, though? I mean, okay, yeah, it’s obvious to everyone but –”

 “No, I get it.” Heather grins and expects his work on her arm. “I won’t say anything. It’s the least I can do. You did a pretty good patch job.” She nudges him playfully. “Astrid should be proud.”

_Pressure Sores_

 It’s not often, but sometimes Hiccup has a little trouble with his stump.

 He spent a lot of time altering the first leg Gobber made him so that it fit him better to avoid this, but even now, on particularly warm days, chafing is inevitable and the sores come no matter how careful he is. Today is one of those days, and he limps around the island, wincing as his stump presses into the hollow of his metal leg with each step, before Toothless decides he’s had enough of waiting around for him and bounds off into the grass.

 “Gee. Thanks, bud,” he grumbles, and with no support from his dragon, he figures this spot is as good as any for a break.

 It’s a nice day today. Mostly cloudless, sunny, warm – he thinks that if his leg hadn’t been giving him so much trouble, it’d be a perfect day to do another test on his wingsuit. He settles back on the grass, breathing in the scent of the dirt and of salt as it wafts up from the sea. Waves crash into sea stacks below, and he sighs.

 He doesn’t get many days like this.

 There’s always something to do, or someone to find, or a dragon to train, or an island to defend, and it’s _nice_ to just sit for a while and watch the occasional cloud drift across the horizon.

 He shuts his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face and wind in the grass, when a shadow passes over him and lands with a _fwump_ a little way away.

 “Hiccup?”

 Hiccup’s eyes snap open, and jolts forward to see Astrid climbing off Toothless’ back with a little pack of first-aid supplies. “Astrid! Hey! What’s – uh – what’s going on?”

 She snorts. “Toothless made it sound like you needed help, but you look fine to me.”

 “Is that what you ran off for?” Hiccup laughs, and pats Toothless’ nose gratefully. “I thought you just got bored. Sorry, bud.”

 “What’s the matter?” Astrid asks, dropping into the grass next to him.

 “Oh – uh –” He shrugs. “It’s nothing, really, I mean this happens every now and then – I’m just having a little trouble with my leg. I get sores sometimes – it’s no big deal.”

 “It’s a big enough deal that Toothless came to find me,” says Astrid mildly. She shuffles towards his metal leg and touches the bindings. “May I?”

 Hiccup pauses. He’s never had anyone but Gothi and Gobber work on his stump – but if there’s one thing he’s learned over his time with Astrid, it’s that she’s full of surprises and often knows what’s good for him far better than he does. He nods. “Go ahead.”

 She unstraps his prosthetic and rolls up the pant leg with careful fingers. A soft gasp slips from her lips at the sight – skin pulled tight over the bone, bright red rope burn just under his knee, and raw ulcerations where the stump would meet wood. She makes a face at him. “You should have told me.”

 “I’ve dealt with it before,” says Hiccup. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

 “I always worry, you idiot,” she snaps. “How often do you get these?”

 He shrugs. “Not too often. Not since we set up here, anyway.”

 She clucks her tongue. “Well, I’m grounding you until these heal,” she says briskly, untying the little bag of supplies. “And you’re not doing anything that involves walking until at least the ulcers are gone. This might sting a bit.”

 It does. He bites down and hisses through his teeth as she cleans the sores with a little bottle of alcohol.

 “We’ll have to talk to Fishlegs later,” she mumbles absently. “He might have something to ease the pain and speed up the healing process. Almost done.”

 Her fingers are gentle. Usually they’re gripped tightly around the handle of an axe or clutched around the edges of Stormfly’s saddle, and as she’s been letting him do _most_ of the first-aid work to build up his experience, he’d almost forgotten that she’s much better at this than he is. She bandages his leg carefully and rubs at the rope burns under his knee, and he hums contentedly.

 “You okay?” she asks, and too late, he realizes that she must have thought his ‘Mm’ sounded like pain.

 “I’m good,” he says, watching as she ties of the bandage. “Thank you.”

 “Well, we _are_ supposed to be sharing.” She offers him a little smile. “Come on. Let’s head back.”

 “Oh.” Hiccup glances back out at the horizon, almost disappointed. His mind drifts to the conversation he had with Heather a little while ago, and he pauses. “Can we stay for a bit? It’s a nice day, and I won’t be much use back at the clubhouse if I can’t walk.”

 Astrid tilts he head at him curiously – like she knows it’s a lame reason, an _excuse_ to stay out here and enjoy each other’s company for a while – and she chuckles. “True,” she says, sliding back up so that her elbow is touching his. “It’s a beautiful day.”

 He turns to look at her, watching the way the sun lights up the blue of her eyes as the wind tousles and blows her hair around her face. “Yeah,” he whispers, touching her fingers. “It is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Knee Sprain_

 Astrid has her share of accidents, but she never seems to get hurt much.

 Well. She does. Obviously there was that one time she took an arrow in the knee for Stormfly, and that one time she got sick, and the one time she went blind, but those were nothing he could help with. She probably stitched the knee up on her own, and all the other minor ones, she probably just looked after herself – which sort of explains why Hiccup has never had to help her with anything, actually, but just once, he wishes she would let him look after her.

 It’s always been the other way around. It’s always her helping him; always Astrid helping Hiccup, but never vice versa. He thinks it’s because she’s trying to keep up her reputation of being invincible, because there have been a few times already where something’s proven that she’s not.

 He wishes she wouldn’t. No one would think any less of her if she accepted help – if anything, pretending she’s invincible will only bring her trouble later.

 And it does.

 They’re all back on Berk now, and according to her, the story is this: she’d offered to do Gothi a favour, except that it was pouring with rain and that the favour was bringing her some herbs that only grow on the craggy, unstable surface of the cliff side on the far side of Berk. She’d tripped and couldn’t quite stabilise her landing, she’d said. Her knee had just given away, and Stormfly had flown her back squawking indignantly like she’s scolding her rider for being so careless.

 “It’s only a sprain,” she grumbles, as Hiccup sits her down on the edge of his bed.

 “You realize that if you’re not careful, it’ll get a lot worse than that, don’t you?” Hiccup frowns at her and pulls her boots off carefully.

 “It’s _fine_ ,” she mumbles, even though it’s obviously _not._

 Hiccup rolls his eyes. “Help me get your leggings off.”

 “I don’t think that’s very polite.”

 “ _Astrid._ ”

 She snorts sheepishly and lifts her bottom off the bed. She tugs her leggings off carefully, wincing as she pulls them over her damaged knee - the same knee, Hiccup realizes, that she took the arrow in not so long ago, which explains a lot about why it gave away. He tuts at the scar, a single jagged line glowing silver in the firelight, and tosses her leggings over a chair by the fire to dry.

 It’s a little swollen – he can see a bruise growing already underneath her kneecap. He touches her thigh gently and flexes her leg, trying to ignore the way she hisses as he tests the limits of her movement.

 “Well, you haven’t broken anything,” he says at last. “But it’s still a pretty bad sprain. I guess all we can really do is put some ice on it and brace it until it heals.” He pulls a little roll of bandages out from his bedside table – he keeps them there now for when his stump starts to bother him, but Astrid tuts disapprovingly as he starts to wrap them around her thigh.

 “Those are _yours_ ,” she complains, but Hiccups silences her with a glare.

 “I’ll get new ones,” he snaps. “Just – let me help you. Just this once. Okay?”

 She huffs. “ _Fine_.”

 Hiccup rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to her knee. He wraps them once more around her thigh as an anchor, passes them under her knee and starts on an anchor underneath her patella. Her skin is cold under his fingers – he imagines being rained on hadn’t helped – and he can’t help but notice the trail of goose bumps that he leaves as he wraps her leg.

 Her breath hitches in her throat as Hiccup fastens down the bandage, and too late, he realizes that he’s never touched her like this. Her face is unreadable in the firelight, her lips parted like she’s forgotten how to breathe.

 Hiccups sucks in a breath and whatever rational thoughts had been in his brain before are gone now, and he leans in places a kiss against her injured knee. His hands slide up her thighs, and he follows, lips trailing along the edge of the bandages until she stops him with a finger under his chin.

 He flushes like he’s only just realized what he’s done. “Astrid – gods – I’m so sorry, I –”

 “Shush.” And she tugs him up by his collar, drags him on top of her, and kisses him breathless. Her fingers find the buckle of his vest, and his own find their way under her shirt, and she bites down on her tongue to stifle a moan as his lips find their way from her neck to the collar of her shirt.

 “I – uh – don’t think we covered this when we looked at how to treat sprains,” he mutters, shrugging his vest off.

 Astrid laughs. “Only my sprains,” she mumbles, tugging him closer, and then closer still.

 He snorts and kisses her again.

 The rest of the bandages lie forgotten on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) An alternate title for this piece would be 'Jelly Stuffs All Her Headcanons Into One Fic' 
> 
> 2) You can't tell me no one on the Edge knew basic first aid, and one of my favourite headcanons is that Astrid has had to deal with Snotlout and his various injuries (sometimes inflicted by her because he was being gross and seedy) so often that Gothi got sick of it and taught her how to manage. With no one else capable and with the need for a medic on the Edge apparent, she taught Hiccup and they share the duties while they're away from home.
> 
> 3) Another headcanon is that Hiccup and Astrid are gigantic flirts and it had probably started as a joke when it was just them, but now they do it so often that they accidentally slip up in front of other people all the time.
> 
> 4) Also another headcanon is that Heather gave Hiccup a ton of shit about Astrid too, and I cannot _believe_ how few fics on here address this issue.
> 
> 5) Jesus I have so many notes, I should just do a director's commentary. This took me so long to write, I hope you guys like it for all the googling and the trouble it gave me.


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